


• misdial •

by widowhunt



Series: living the jily au life [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 'still a boarding school' au, F/M, Muggle AU, crossposted to tumblr, not much changes honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:16:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/widowhunt/pseuds/widowhunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘Hello?’ she asked, and her voice was familiar to James; more than familiar, actually, as he’d recognize it anywhere. ‘Who is this?’</p>
<p>He must have accidentally misdialed, because that was definitely Evans, and how on Earth did he manage to call her instead? The odds of this exact situation happening were astronomical, and yet, he couldn’t find it in him to be completely surprised. It was just his luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	• misdial •

**Author's Note:**

> I've been asked to turn this into a multi-chapter fic on tumblr, and since I was already considering doing it anyways, I figured there was no harm in it! Still, due to the fact that I have absolutely no way to make this continue from here and have everything that I want to happen happen, this is more or less an outtake of sorts, hence why I've finally decided to upload it here as well! (It's been on tumblr for several days now, I think) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

           This had to be some sort of cruel joke, James decided. There was absolutely _no_ way that his alarm could mysteriously turn itself off in the middle of the night (as ‘middle of the night’ as it could get when he crashed into his bed at four o’clock in the morning). No, this had to be Sirius’s goddamn idea of a _cruel joke_. He was well aware that James had a particularly important prefects meeting that he had to get to _and lead_ , but then again, Sirius also took it as a personal offense if he ever found out that James was getting up and ready less than eight hours after he went to sleep—it used to be ten, but Remus somehow convinced him that he would be personally offended every day if he insisted on staying up late, now that their course work was getting so heavy.

          Remus had also said that way back halfway through first year, so it said a lot about Sirius’s insistence on staying up late.

          But this—oh, _this—_ was just out of line. It might have flown before James had gotten the Head Boy’s badge over the summer, but now he was expected to _enforce rules_ and _lead meetings_ ; the very antithesis of what Sirius enjoyed, in other words.

          It wasn’t so bad though, since the rules weren’t quite as strictly enforced as the teachers made them out to be at the beginning of each school year, and the meetings weren’t much more than a monthly update of what was going on in the school. There wasn’t usually anything to report outside of the usual misbehaving students (and if James had to put money on it, he’d always bet they were from Stafford House), but that didn’t mean that the Head Boy could just _be late_.

          Thankfully, his internal clock hadn’t failed him _too_ badly, despite the fact that he’d gone to bed so late, and when he checked the time, he realized that he was only running behind by fifteen minutes. The meeting hadn’t actually started yet, so maybe he’d be able to get there in time still, but he thought he might as well call Professor McGonagall to let her know that he might be late and ask her to let Lily Evans know.

          Lily Evans was the Head Girl, and if one managed to sit close enough to the Marauders—the prankster group comprised of James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew—at the opportune time, they might be able to hear James mention her occasionally, as he’d had a crush on her for four years. He didn’t gush (‘I’m way too cool for that,’ he’d said, upon Sirius making fun of his hopeless infatuation two years into it), but he was a foul liar when the conversation came to the topic of Lily Evans, and he didn’t really _have_ to gush about how beautifully her hair reflected the sunlight in autumn. It was obvious.

          Still, even though they were working together, it was only a month into the school year and it hadn’t occurred to either of them to exchange numbers in case one of them was running late. The need had never come up, and James had hit on her before, but at this point he didn’t really expect her to say yes, and what would she think if he just up and asked her for her number? He was _trying_ to be friends with her, and it was working as far as he could tell—he wasn’t about to screw it up by accidentally putting the moves on her.

          McGonagall’s office number would have to do, as it was well known throughout the school.

          Dialing the number, he hastened to get out of bed and nestled the phone in between his ear and shoulder as he pulled a pair of trousers out of his dresser and started to get dressed. He promptly dropped it when the voice that answered was not the Scottish brogue of the Deputy Headmistress.

          ‘ _Hello?_ ’ she asked, and her voice was familiar to James; more than familiar, actually, as he’d recognize it anywhere. ‘ _Who is this?_ ’

          He must have accidentally misdialed, because that was definitely Evans, and how on _Earth_ did he manage to call her instead? The odds of this exact situation happening were _astronomical_ , and yet, he couldn’t find it in him to be completely surprised. It was just his luck.

          ‘ _…hello?_ ’ James only just managed to pick up the phone in time to hear her ask again, and he made some sort of sound to let her know that it wasn’t a dead line.

          ‘Hey, uh, Evans,’ he said, still slightly bewildered, ‘it’s James. Honestly, I meant to call McGonagall—how similar are your numbers, anyways?’

          ‘ _Uh,_ ’ she said, skepticism lacing her voice. ‘ _I don’t know, I’ve never had to check. Why were you calling McGonagall?’_

          ‘Actually, I’m running a few minutes late, I was hoping she could let you know that I might not be in time for the meeting,’ he said, pulling a face. ‘Sirius has this stupid eight-hour rule,’ he added hastily, casting a disapproving look at the sleeping figure in the bed next to him.

          ‘ _Oh, that’s fine,_ ’ she said, ‘ _what’s the eight-hour rule?_ ’

          ‘To put it lightly, he doesn’t like it when we sleep less than eight hours. I went to bed at four, so he turned off my alarm without bothering to tell me.’

          James didn’t seem to be the only one who was tired, judging by the yawn Evans was evidently trying to stifle. _‘Lightly?’_

          ‘That’s a story for another time, Evans,’ he said, squeezing his eyes shut in the hopes that it would make him feel more awake (which he _had_ felt, up until her yawn). ‘So yeah, I’ll be a bit late, probably. Sorry about that.’

          ‘ _No, don’t worry, it’s not going to be an eventful meeting, it’s only the beginning of October,’_ she said, ‘ _just try and get here soon. Thanks for letting me know, even if you did somehow get my number like a creep._ ’ He wasn’t sure if that was a joke. He hoped it was.

          ‘Um, yeah,’ he said, frowning. ‘You should probably check McGonagall’s number, because I swear I just misdialed, as… unreal as that sounds.’

          ‘ _I’ll do that. But seriously, why are you still talking to me? Get on with it!’_ He was sure that wasn’t meant to be serious, she didn’t sound actually irritated. He muttered a goodbye of sorts, hanging up and suddenly becoming aware of the fact that his heart was going at a faster pace than he was used to.

          Which was stupid, because she was just a girl, and it was just a phone call between friends. It wasn’t like he was planning on asking her out (again), so there really was no reason for that.

          Right?

          There was always the fact that he might have been a little bit nervous that she’d jump to conclusions and call him a stalker, but he knew her better than that by now; she wasn’t the kind of person who would do that. She was far too logical, and she saw through lies like it was her business, if he had something to worry about, she would be able to tell and _boy_ , would he be in for it.

          He checked the time: 7:51 AM. He had nine minutes to finish getting ready and run (because he did _not_ have time to walk) to the centre of the school, where the prefects room was. It was strategically placed there because the four corners of the school were the House Dormitories, and seeing as the prefects came from each house (Grenville, Reynolds, Hoffmann, and Stafford), the architects had placed it there in order to allow to equal travel distance.

          It wasn’t the first time that James had wished that the room was closer to Grenville House. It was, however, the first time that he was late for a meeting, so it took a considerably shorter time to get there, once he’d finished getting ready and sped out the door. Surprisingly enough, he got there only five minutes into the start, crossing the room and sliding into his seat at the head of the table with Evans.

          If he was honest, he didn’t really pay attention to what was going on—all he learned from the meeting was that misbehaviour was minimal. They distributed the patrol schedules that they’d put together the previous week, earning some groans from the prefects as they read them over and realized that they would not, necessarily, be patrolling with their fellow housemates, as an inter-house unity movement. It was strategic; Stafford students wouldn’t be with Grenville students much, because that would just be asking for a disaster. Hoffmann students were hardly ever with their own house—they got along nicely with mostly everyone. Reynolds students were most often paired with Grenville.

          All in all, the entire affair only took ten minutes after James got there, and once the prefects cleared out to go meet their friends, Evans turned on him.

          ‘So, what _is_ this whole eight-hour rule?’

          ‘I should have known you’d ask,’ He let out a laugh. ‘It’s more of a guideline. Sirius has a tendency to turn off alarms if he notices you’re going to sleep less than eight hours. Used to be ten, but Remus intervened. Lately it hasn’t been so much of an issue because he’s asleep before I am, but I guess he woke up last night.’

          Evans frowned, swinging her bag onto her shoulder. ‘Hasn’t that become a problem?’

          ‘Well yeah,’ he said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Why do you think I was late for class?’

          ‘I just figured you were doing it for the dramatic entrances,’ she said, shrugging.

          ‘Okay, that was a part of it, way back in first year, but mostly it’s because Sirius is a smartass.’

          She nodded. If her furrowed brows and pursed lips were any indication, she appeared to be processing the new information. Silence fell between them; one that James didn’t feel particularly motivated to break. He always liked talking to Evans, but he didn’t want to say something and piss her off, not after being late and… ah.

          ‘Sorry about calling you earlier, sounded like you were tired,’ he said, clearing his throat.

          ‘Oh, well, I was. Spent a while finishing up my History essay, but weren’t _you_ the one that went to bed at four?’

          James shrugged, running a hand through his hair. ‘I didn’t think you caught that,’ he admitted. ‘But yeah, I was actually doing my essay too. Meant to start earlier, but I ended up helping Pete out with biology. It, er, took longer than I expected, but he got there eventually.’

          She raised her eyebrows, starting towards the door, gesturing for him to join her. Slightly surprised (but hoping she didn’t notice that), he did, falling into step beside her. ‘I didn’t know you were a tutor.’

          ‘That’s because I’m not a tutor,’ he said, ‘I just help people out if they ask for it. McGonagall’s asked me a few times if I’m sure I don’t want to be official, but with Head duties and football captain, I don’t want to add another “title”, I guess. I just want to have time to hang out, y’know?’

          ‘But you’re good— _really_ good—at biology,’ she said.

          James cast a sideways look at her, fighting the smirk that tugged at his mouth. ‘Are you asking me to tutor you, Lily Evans?’

          She scoffed, avoiding his eyes, and he couldn’t help but grin.

          ‘You are! I never thought I’d see the day.’

          ‘Oh, shut up,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘There’s just some parts of it that I don’t fully understand, and since you’re, like, a _prodigy_ , I figured it was worth a shot. So?’

          ‘So,’ he repeated. ‘Will I tutor you?’

          She gave him an exasperated look out of the corner of her eyes. ‘ _Yes,_ will you, James Potter, tutor me, Lily Evans, in biology,’ she said.

          He hummed, pretending to think it over. ‘Oh, alright,’ he decided, after a minute of pause. ‘I _guess_ I can do that.’

          Evans narrowed her eyes at him, but she smiled nonetheless, and sighed. ‘You really make it hard on a girl to get an answer, you know that, right?’

          ‘Only returning the favour,’ he said, before he could stop himself. Realizing what he said, he froze, much like she proceeded to do only a second later. His eyes wide, he looked away from her. ‘I didn’t mean—fuck,’ he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

          She shook her head, her cheeks burning a red that started to rival her hair. ‘No, its—it’s okay, I get it,’ James didn’t know if that was just a placating gesture, but didn’t contest her. ‘Anyways, um, I should go meet Marlene and Mary, they said they’d grab me something for breakfast since we had the meeting,’ she said, after clearing her throat awkwardly.

          He nodded, still wondering what, exactly, possessed him to say that. ‘Yeah, a-alright,’ he said, ‘go get your… whatever they got you. You got nice friends, Evans,’ he chuckled.

          ‘Right,’ she said, finally looking back up at him. ‘Well, I guess you have my number. Let me know when you’re free to help me out. See you later?’

          He nodded, just as she turned down the hall, probably going to the cafeteria, James thought. He watched her as she left, unable to say that yeah, he’d see her later, they lived in the same dorm, for god’s sake. But if there was one thing that stood out in his mind, it was:

_Yeah, I have your number, but the way I got it was out of the ordinary. What d’you say to doing it properly?_

          Shaking his head, he turned in the opposite direction that she’d gone, off to wander a hidden section of the ancient building until class begun. The words had been on his lips until he decided just at the last minute, that it was a stupid thing to say with his track record. He _couldn’t_ hit on her, not again ( _not yet_ , said a little voice at the back of his mind that he promptly ignored), or he’d risk completely destroying their friendship. That was more than it was worth.

          But, as he opened the door to an empty classroom and jumped onto a desk, he couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face.

          He still wasn’t going to gush about her to the Marauders.


End file.
